missmuffin221:conversationswithjohnlock:John’s not going to stop.Sherlock’s eyes are wide with...

missmuffin221:

conversationswithjohnlock:

John’s not going to stop.

Sherlock’s eyes are wide with disbelief, but he doesn’t back away. He stands there with his proud posture and his wide eyes, eyes that reflect the anticipation of John’s inevitable regret, and he watches John approach. 

John steps right up to Sherlock and Sherlock looks down at him with doubt and wariness, but he doesn’t say you’re wrong. So John touches Sherlock’s cheek, and Sherlock keeps his eyes open until the very last second, waiting for the joke, for the denial. It doesn’t come.

John’s lips are half a dream from Sherlock’s when Sherlock finally closes his eyes, and John presses his mouth to Sherlock’s, pulls, presses, pulls, and Sherlock doesn’t do a single thing but wait. John doesn’t stop, not until long after Sherlock responds, even if those responses are filled with fine, but you’ll see, you’ll see, you’ll see.

John’s not going to stop.

Sherlock stares up at John in the darkness of his bedroom, and he doesn’t say a single word. He watches, observing, giving John every opportunity to change his mind, but it doesn’t happen. John murmurs and asks and confirms as he touches and kisses and moves, and Sherlock breathes harder and harder until he can’t breathe at all, because John never stops.

Afterward, John holds Sherlock close, holds him tight, whispers and pets and won’t let go, and when Sherlock wakes up, John is still there, and he doesn’t stop smiling, he doesn’t stop murmuring, he doesn’t stop touching.

John’s not going to stop.

A week later, two weeks later, three weeks later, John hasn’t stopped touching Sherlock, hasn’t stopped kissing him, holding him, whispering to him. John is intent on loving Sherlock, but he can see what Sherlock doesn’t say, all those swallowed words: you’ll see, you’ll see, you’ll see.

John doesn’t stop, not even when they leave the flat. He puts his hand on the small of Sherlock’s back when they’re walking, and he straightens his lapels at crime scenes, and he strokes his thumb over the back of Sherlock’s hand when they go to Angelo’s, because he is not going to stop, not until Sherlock get’s it.

A month goes by, and another, and another, and John does not stop showing Sherlock, telling Sherlock, proving to Sherlock, that this is it. This is it. John tells other people, too. He tells Donovan to lay the fuck off his partner, and he tells Lestrade he can’t because he already has a date with Sherlock, and he tells Mrs Hudson what she already knows, that Sherlock is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. 

Then, when the new nurse from the surgery calls to ask John out, John says he’s so sorry, he thought she knew he was with Sherlock, so no, but thank you, he’s flattered. He ends the call and turns just in time to see the corner of Sherlock’s mouth quirk up, and he thinks maybe, maybe Sherlock is getting it.

John’s not going to stop.

John catches Sherlock watching him, studying him, looking for the tells. There are no tells. John watches Sherlock wait, and wait, and wait, but John just settles in more, and more, and more.

And one day, one day when John isn’t expecting it at all, Sherlock holds his hand out, and pulls John close to him, and takes him to bed, and Sherlock says, you really aren’t going to stop, are you? and John says, my God, you are such an idiot, and then Sherlock touches John, he touches and kisses and moves, and afterward he whispers and pets and won’t let go, and Sherlock says, okay, then, me neither. I’m not going to stop. you’ll see, you’ll see you’ll see.

*dances and sings and praises cwb* fluff…sweet tender understanding and all the love. Dear , you and yours writing keeps me right.

Something soft for @imnova @yorkiepug @folkyfaery @totallysilvergirl @golden-hamshine @celerylock

Lovely